


dim early morning

by manamune (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8076562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/manamune
Summary: Lance decides Keith is too stressed and sets out to fix that in the best way possible: by making Keith's favourite food, pancakes.Things never work out when Lance wants them to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Kiki @ twitter!

Lance wakes up to an alarm. However, not simply one alarm, or two alarms, or even three alarms.

No, Lance wakes up to ten alarms in a row, all spaced by exactly one minute, until he slams his palm to it and crushes it underneath his hand. Keith stirs beside him, tucking his face under his arm and rolling away from Lance.

“Sorry,” Lance mumbles and kisses the side of Keith’s head apologetically. Keith sighs and lifts his head, pressing his lips back to Lance’s. They both have disgusting morning breath, but Lance can’t bring himself to give a shit, and Keith isn’t really in the state of mind to care about anything but lazy kissing and sleep.

“S’alright,” he answer, barely awake, judging by the quiet tone of his voice. “Getting up?”

“Mhm.” Lance smiles fondly, rubbing his thumb over Keith’s forehead and pushing back his fringe. Keith’s hair is so, impossibly soft; one of Lance’s favourite past times is brushing his fingers through Keith’s hair, from his scalp to his shoulders, until it’s silky smooth and free of tangles.

Keith’s lowers his head back onto his pillow and blinks at him, sleep stuck to the corner of his eyes. He’s the perfect picture for Lance, of everything he could possibly imagine existing. There’s nothing he could imagine more beautiful than Keith, half-asleep and giving him a small, affectionate smile.

“Okay,” Keith says, then shuts his eyes. Lance’s hand drops from his forehead to beside him on the bed. “‘M not getting up.”

“You don’t have to.” Lance sits up and yawns, stretching out from his arms to his toes. “Go back to sleep.”

He slips off the bed and tucks Keith back in, taking care to rearrange the pillows so the place where Lance slept is still occupied. Keith turns and wraps his arms around it, humming.

“Okay,” he repeats, and drifts off to sleep again right before Lance’s eyes.

Lance laughs softly to himself, staring at Keith for a good, long moment before soundlessly leaving the room, shutting the door behind him so that Keith can continue his sleep as peacefully as possible.

He takes a deep breath and snaps his fingers in his face for good measure, just to wake himself up more. He rubs at his eyes, shakes his head, and then sets out to work on their breakfast: old-fashioned pancakes, doused in authentic maple syrup and copious amounts of butter.

He’s spent a painstakingly long week preparing for today. Finding fresh ingredients isn’t easy in space, let alone ones that taste and have the texture of the ones back on Earth. In the end, he made an order from a merchant on a planet with numerous trading posts to have them flown in. It wasn’t cheap, not at all, but it’s worth it for the smile Keith is going to give him when he wakes up properly.

The actual process is simple. Lance used to make breakfast for his siblings before school, and he often made dinner as well, if his parents were busy. It’s almost cathartic to his stress to be able to cook something so uncomplicated again for someone else. It reminds him of home, of being surrounded by family; and he supposes that’s reasonable, since this is home, and Keith is his family now too.

The flour goes in first, then the baking powder, salt, and sugar. He mixes it well, and carefully adds the rest of the ingredients. The end result is completely smooth, falling off his whisk in the most ideal way. He takes a deep breath in and smiles at his creation.

So far so good.

He turns on the stove and takes out their biggest pan. After pouring the batter, he wipes the sweat off his forehead from the heat and waits.

Pancakes are Keith’s favourite food, especially ones covered in levels of sweetness that most people wouldn’t touch. Keith’s been frowning too much lately, or, rather, he hasn’t been smiling enough, from overworking himself and stressing over things that Lance probably hasn’t been helping with. He’s determined to rectify that.

Also, waking Keith up to food will certainly reward him with lots of pleased kisses later, which isn’t something Lance will complain about at all.

He has to stop himself from doing a little dance in their kitchen from how fantastic his idea is. Really, he’s a genius; making his boyfriend happy while also making himself happy, because Keith being happy means that he’s happy too. Plus, they get to eat good food. What’s to stop them?

Aside from the smell of smoke, that is.

Lance blinks, then jumps, hitting his elbow on the stove.

“Ah, fuck,” he grumbles, lowering the heat on the stove and staring down at Keith’s pancakes. Or, what was supposed to be Keith’s pancakes. It’s unevenly cooked, with one side being almost completely brown and the other splotchy. He takes it off the pan with a spatula and puts it onto a plate, sighing.

He can’t serve this to Keith. Keith isn’t just any guy’s boyfriend, damn it, he’s Lance’s boyfriend, and Lance’s boyfriend can only have the best.

So, he does it again. And again. And again, until he has a whole pile of burnt pancakes sitting beside him and no batter left in his bowl.

“What the hell?” he mutters, scratching his head. Sure, he doesn’t cook as much lately, with all of their groups meals and Keith taking it up as a hobby, but he can’t be this bad. This is really bad.

He opens his fridge to grab the ingredients to make more batter, until he picks up the milk carton and realizes it’s far too light to have any milk in it. He squints at the pile of burnt pancakes. Good milk was sacrificed to make this awful stack, and now he can’t make anymore.

Biting his lip, he surveys the rest of their fridge. He put all of his hopes and dreams into these pancakes. The rest of their food was stuff Keith wouldn’t even touch at this time of the day. Lance wasn’t about to make him spaghetti for breakfast.

Oh, well. Dry cereal it is. Keith will appreciate being brought breakfast in bed, at least. He’ll have to ask Hunk how he fucked up. Maybe it has to do with the stove being different from the one he had back on Earth.

He takes out two bowls and rifles through their cupboards until he finds their respective brands. Right before he begins to pour Keith’s bowl, the door opens and he hears a familiar shuffle of slippers against the floor.

“Huh,” Keith says, his eyes barely open. He looks between Lance, the cereal, and the pancakes, clearly not comprehending what he’s seeing.

“I thought you were going back to sleep,” Lance huffs, setting down the cereal box. He goes over to Keith and wraps his arm around his boyfriend’s waist, pulling him in for another kiss. “I was going to bring you breakfast.”

Keith’s head falls to Lance’s shoulder and he yawns, making Lance yawn again as well. Keith’s arms fall tiredly over Lance’s hips, and the way he slumps against Lance’s chest makes him think that he’s around two seconds away from falling asleep again.

“Come on,” Lance says. He smiles fondly and tries to tug Keith to his chair at their dining room table.

When they pass by the kitchen, Keith squirms himself out of Lance’s grip and goes directly for the pancakes.

“Pancakes,” Keith whispers, like he’s entranced. Shit, he should have dumped them in the garbage before running over to Keith. He’s too tired to recognize how shitty they are.

“Bad pancakes,” Lance says and hurries to step in front of Keith, placing his hands on Keith’s chest and leaning against the counter to block him from the pancakes.

Keith scowls at him. “Lance,” he says, suddenly sounding significantly more awake. Lance groans; of course Keith would wake up in order to scold him.

“I’ll get you cereal, okay?” Lance releases Keith and picks up the cereal box. “I burnt those, so don’t—”

Keith’s arm hits the edge of the plate and he picks up one of the pancakes with his bare hands, shoving as much of it as he can into his mouth.

“—Eat them,” Lance finishes.

Keith’s eyes slowly move towards him as he chews. He definitely looks more awake now.

“I told you not to eat them!” Lance points a finger at Keith accusingly in preparation for the inevitable yelling he’s about to endure.

To his absolute shock and confusion, Keith swallows, picks up the rest of it on the plate, and goes to sit down at the table.

“Uh.” Lance drops the cereal box for the second time that morning. He follows Keith like a puppy, watching in horror as Keith begins to eat the rest of the pancakes.

The burnt, splotchy, disgusting pancakes that did not deserve to go into Keith’s mouth, let alone be near him at all.

“These are pretty gross,” Keith says, licking his fingers.

Lance gapes at him. “Then don’t eat them!”

Keith narrows his eyes at him, setting his elbows on the table. “You made them for me,” he says, as if that can explain why he’s putting himself through this.

Lance takes the seat across from him and slouches over. Keith doesn’t say another word until the entire stack of pancakes is gone, which doesn’t take him long; he barely takes a break before stuffing the next piece into his mouth.

“Water,” Keith demands. Lance scurries to grab him a bottle and then brings it back to him. Keith downs the whole thing, then sighs.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” Lance practically cries, hiding his face comically in his arms.

Keith rolls his eyes and kisses the top of Lance’s head.

“It’s the least I could do,” Keith says, pressing his cheek to Lance’s arm.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Lance mumbles. Keith grabs Lance’s cheek and tilts his head up, kissing him again.

Keith pulls on his chair, the bottom of the legs screeching against the floor, until they’re side by side. He drops his head to Lance’s shoulder, letting his hair tickle Lance’s cheek.

“You’ve been doing too much for me lately. The least I could do in return is eat your crappy pancakes. Although, I did think they were going to be a lot better than they actually were.” Keith laughs. “That woke me up pretty quickly.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Lance says, squirming. He throws his arm around Keith’s shoulder and cuddles him, settling on the space right between their chairs. “I wanted to make you breakfast because you’ve been doing too much for _me_ lately.”

God, Keith is way too good for him. Or, maybe they’re simply perfect for each other. He can’t decide. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s pretty sure Keith is thinking the exact same thing.

“You’re ridiculous,” Keith repeats back to him, and kisses him again. Lance smiles and closes his eyes, kissing him back.

Keith’s mouth tastes like the ashes of his shitty, burnt pancakes, but it also tastes of a boundless affection that’s sweeter than any pancakes he could’ve made.

(Lance is still going to make awesome, not-burnt pancakes one day, though. Keith won’t know what hit him.)

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write a little something before bed, so i managed to get this out. :D i sure do love my sappy established relationship klance.
> 
> let me know what you think by commenting or messaging me, and thank you for reading! <3
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


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